Adventures in babysitting
by Roo1965
Summary: Sheppard had to babysit Torren for an afternoon- piece of cake, right? set season 5 after S&R and the seed. fluff.


**Category:** SGA Gen/ShepLantis/fluff

**Spoilers:** after S&R and The Seed.

**Season**: 5

**Content warnings**: some swear words, fluff

**Summary:** Sheppard has to baby sit Torren for a few hours, piece of cake, right?

**Disclaimer**:Stargate Atlantis and its characters are the property of MGM studios, the Sci -Fi Channel and Acme Shark. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

File size kb: 194 kb 2,707 words, 7 pages

**Author's notes**: first ever ficlet in this fandom tho I've been reading SGA for over a year now. This was in my brain when I woke up today- I gave up ho0vering and tidying up for this. I've not been much around babies so…30 Nov 2008.

Beta thanks and hand holding go to **coolbreeze1** and **radioshack84**

**Teaser**: Torren squirmed inside the sling against his black T shirt, his little legs kicking against John's abdomen scars making the most recent one throb dully.

** Adventures in babysitting  
**

0o0

He was the only one left to complete the mission and by God he was going to. Sheppard patted his equipment. Radio, check. 9 mil, check. He looked down at Torren's face with the big dark eyes and snub nose, his own face crinkling into a smile automatically. How did babies make him do that? Was it some sort of autonomic response? He adjusted the sling one final time, picked up the baby supply backpack from the desk, and put it on before checking his watch. Torren's timing was good. He'd had a few hours of a snuffly baby, heavy lidded with sleep, while he worked on some reports, some filing, and the odd game of Minesweeper, but now was as operational as he was going to get since Torren had woken up fretful.

The _thrum _of Atlantis at the back of his mind let him know that she was running fine, so he had no need to worry. The internal static itch and nausea he got when she wasn't should be enough, though there had been times when the _oh shit_ brain blast was all the warning he had.

"Time to ship out, junior." Junior blew bubbles and let out a gurgly shriek that went right through his eardrums. John grimaced, "Right." He thought _open _at the door and left his quarters. As he walked down the corridors he noticed how heavy Torren was since the last time he'd done this. Torren squirmed inside the sling against his black T shirt, his little legs kicking against John's abdomen scars making the most recent one throb dully. He figured having his tac vest would be too solid and that the little guy might like the sound of a heartbeat and the warmth of his body. Besides, he was at home on Atlantis, he had his weapon, radio and knife and could call on the Geek Squad and his Marines at a moment's notice.

In the meantime he was looking after Torren for an afternoon so that Teyla and Kanaan could have a "time-out" on the mainland. It would be "Uncles" Rodney and Ronon's turn soon enough and he was keeping a camera handy for that.

The sliding door opened in front of him and he took a deep cleansing breath of fresh air as he stepped out onto his favourite balcony. He turned so that Torren could look at the view, although he was a little unsure about how good his eyesight was at this age. He seemed to like it, waving his arms and clenching and unclenching his tiny fists. Shame there were no spouting whales to look at on this planet—well, not that they had found so far anyway, but the twin moons were cool. He squinted into the distance and pointed out the mainland.

"See, there? No, over _there_. That's where your mom and dad are right now. Don't worry they'll be back soon."

Sheppard walked across the city, showing the baby different views and talking to people on the way. Rodney would be rolling his eyes and muttering about Kirkish tendencies since Torren really was a "babe" magnet. Torren put up with the cooing and awing and then became fretful until John realised how large the knot of female staff was surrounding him.

"Er, guys? I'm sure Teyla'll be glad to know how well Torren's doing and all your kind offers… of …umm…..babysitting and…. stuff, but could you give us a little space? Thanks, I gotta go now." And he moved on, heading for Rodney's labs as a new distraction for Torren. He looked down at the baby again who just crossed his eyes and grunted determinedly focusing inward.

Down a few levels on the transporter and along a corridor and there they were in Geekville, Rodney's domain. Sheppard stopped for a second and listened. No furious ranting and shouting -things must be okay. Either that or McKay had fired everyone again. He leaned against the open door and watched Rodney and Radek both hunched over laptops, whiteboards with sketches and equations off to one side. A computer beeped and Rodney chair-wheeled over to peer at the results. Radek carried on oblivious.

"Huh." Rodney frowned at the screen and pulled open a drawer with one hand, and began to type with the other. The hand inside the drawer rustled around and then shut it. Sheppard watched fascinated as the hand went through Rodney's pockets also coming up empty. Rodney multi-tasking never got old. Sheppard slipped out of his backpack and fished out several power bars from a side pocket.

"McKay? Here." He said lobbing them gently onto the table.

"Thanks." Rodney had opened and eaten half of one before his brain caught up. "Sheppard!" He looked up, his eyes opened wide in surprise, and a smirk drifted across his face.

"Don't say…" Sheppard began.

"That's quite a look you've got going there. Couldn't they find a baby thing in black? Then you could go on Ops together. That Athosian blue looks nice…very Air Force…"

"…anything." Sheppard sighed.

Radek's head popped up from his screens, he sniffed. "What is that….." sniff. "Smell?"

"What smell?"

"Is worse than…._holub hovno* _and that is something…." He pushed his glasses back up his nose and hid again.

Rodney looked at all the gadgets and stuff on the tables and the half eaten power bar before resting on Sheppard's incongruous black uniformed figure with blue baby sling, Torren wriggling and chin butting Sheppard with his head. His eyes narrowed and he sniffed.

"It_ is_ you!"

"Is not!" but even as Sheppard said it, he knew. He was at Ground Zero after all. He looked for a clear space to change Torren, but before he could do so his radio clicked in his ear. He tapped it.

"Sheppard, go."

"Sir, this is Sgt Turner in the armoury."

"Gunny, what's up?" Sheppard could hear raised voices in the background.

"A dispute that only you can deal with sir. They're unarmed, just shoving and talking."

"Okay, I'll be there in five. Out." He sighed. "Can you…?"

"No!" said Rodney and Radek together.

"But…" he gave in. He picked up and put on the backpack and jogged carefully to the transporter, wondering how long he could delay Torren's diaper situation.

As military leader of the expedition and of Atlantis, he figured he made an impression on the military personnel, whatever service they were from, and he didn't care if they liked him just so long as they understood the Pegasus rules and obeyed them. He'd heard the gossip before they'd shipped out of Cheyenne Mountain that he was only there because of his gene, a pilot amongst the jarheads. That was only part of the story. They didn't know about the coin flip and the background SG1 reports that General O'Neill and Dr Weir had made him read, and Holy Batman _– wormhole travel and a new galaxy to explore_! The Atlantis expedition knew it could be a one- way ticket, so that meant personnel were picked based on that point as well as the ATA gene and other military and scientific expertise. Killing your commanding officer on the first off-world mission was bound to stir up the SNAFU gossip even more. At the time he hadn't been able to tell if they'd hated him more for that, or because he had been a lowly-ranked rotor pilot now in charge of them, or both. Trying to explain and understand the space vampires didn't help either, nor the fact that he'd _woken_ them up. You couldn't make this crap up if you tried. He never was good with words, so he just led by example, never doing anything he wouldn't send his own team or men into.

He liked to think that now, several years on, he still made an impression when dealing with the Marines. Case in point, the chatter that followed the Genii takeover. He figured he'd spooked the by-the-book Marines on that one by his dark and dirty fighting. Certainly gave them something to talk about. This, he figured would be another one of those times, as long as no-one laughed or went "awww". Today he entered with his own satellite smell which had totally nothing to do with him, except that it did.

Lt Colonel Badass with the bright blue baby sling, baby included, certainly stopped the lippy soldiers from shouting at each other, their hands remaining locked on the front of their vests as he walked through the door and stood there, hands on hips, glaring at them.

Lt Col J. Sheppard: Eleven billion points + 1 for style. Jarheads: 0.

"Men, break it up! Now!" the Marines broke apart. Torren whimpered and squirmed. Sheppard looked round for a wide flat surface…as the room of battle hardened military realised what the smell was and what had to happen next. Feet moved backwards and others edged towards the door.

"Gunny, clear that bench for me…you two, move over there and explain this ruckus."

Sheppard wiggled the backpack off and dug into it for the changing mat which he then spread on the table. The Velcro sounded loud in the room as he undid the sling and eased Torren out. "I'm waiting." He reached into the bag again for wipes, a new diaper, talc and a baggie.

"But…"

"What? We're all guys here! Honestly…." Sheppard undid the diaper.

"Sir, Lt Kemp reckons we're exaggerating about what the Wraith can do and all the other weird shit that happens in the Pegasus Galaxy. We got into an over-friendly debate, sir."

Sheppard and the occupants of the room recoiled briefly as he changed Torren (John mentally gave the little guy bonus points for quantity and disgustingness), and did clean- up duty (he was never eating with that hand again, and…oh God he was channelling McKay now).

"Lt Kemp, did you not attend orientation?"

"Sir, no sir."

Sheppard whirled round, his face scrunched in puzzlement, sprinkling a fine mist of talc from the bottle in one hand as he did so. Distracted for a second he watched it settle on the men's black boots and the floor with fascination. "Why not?"

"Because you were in the sick bay, Major Lorne was off-world and I think I slipped off the grid, sir."

Silence fell into the room as Gunny and the others waited for his response. Sheppard methodically put all the changing bits back in the pack and cleaned his hands again. Torren had been very good during the whole clean-up thing. He was now dry and comfortable but the atmosphere in the room set him whining fretfully. Sheppard slipped a finger into Torren's waving hand and it was gripped firmly.

"Here's how it's going to go. Lt Kemp, do you think this is from some normal insect bite?" He pulled at the neck of his t-shirt with his other hand to show the faint indented scars from the Iratus bug, then, yanked it up to point out the faded feeding marks from his time with Todd and Kolya. "The Wraith kill, quick or slow- it doesn't matter. We're food to them, that's it, pure and simple. Trying to shoot them with a P90 or 9-mil is futile just after they've fed. You need a really big knife or a stunner." He turned and put the sling back on and slid Torren in again.

There was a sound at the door. Major Lorne had arrived, his eyebrows raised in surprise but he said nothing. Sheppard nodded at him, stuffing the last item into the backpack and putting it on.

"We let you down by letting you slip off the grid, Marine, and that can't happen ever again. Major Lorne can take over now and show you the video footage of what happens when the Wraith cull, and then he'll go through orientation with you. You have to learn new fighting techniques too. That's where Ronon comes in. He's on the mainland right now. I'll speak to you tomorrow morning at 0730 to check that you understand the Pegasus rules and regulations and get you started on Pegasus fighting and tactics 101. Dismissed." The fact that he was waving a baby bottle of milk at the Lieutenant did not lessen the impact of his words, or at least he hoped not. He left then, a slight smell lingering in the air, talc on the floor, and a buzz of talk that he knew Gunny would be able to cadge beer and smokes off newbies for months to come.

Much as he would have liked to have taken over and sorted Kemp out, he had Torren with him and the baby was fretting for his next feed. Sheppard returned to his quarters via the cook's entrance to the mess hall-they warmed up the milk for him while he stuffed a sandwich in a pocket and an apple in the other, avoiding the main hall and being trapped. Although it was good to socialise with the baby, Teyla said she wanted calming influences as well, that too much excitement wasn't good for him.

John sat on his bed against the headrest with his knees up, Torren balanced on his chest, watching him hungrily suck at the bottle while he ate his own food. Sheppard tried to remember Teyla's instructions. Was this the bit where he had to burp Torren, or would he do that on his own? The bottle wasn't empty and Torren seemed to have finished for now. He got up cradling the baby in his arms and wandered round the room for a few minutes to see if the little guy was going to sleep or stay awake for a bit longer. Silence. Sheppard carefully walked over to the smaller travelling crib that Teyla had brought and eased the baby in on his back and pulled a light cover over him up to his chest.

An hour or so later he was startled from drawing up shift rotas and querying the Jumper bay techs' latest report by a disgruntled wail from the crib.

"Hey, anybody would think you've been abandoned," he said as he reached in for the unhappy baby. Well, technically he _had _been abandoned but that wasn't the point.

John put on the MP3 player of music Social Sciences had recorded on Athos before everything went FUBAR. He jiggled and talked and still Torren wailed, hiccupping sobs wracking his little body. Sheppard turned the music off. Teyla's Athosian toy and favourite blankie didn't do the trick either, but McKay's educational octopus with 7 legs did hold his attention for .034 seconds and Sheppard had no clue why. Torren had ignored it before. He shrugged and left his room with the Whoozit stuffed in his pocket and Torren still fretful in the sling giving him an extra wayward kick below the belt. Sheppard winced but carried on.

Ignoring the popular corridors he found himself heading towards the Chair room. Maybe a light show would sidetrack him into not crying. Sheppard slid into the control chair and the familiar hum went through his whole body as it lit up bright blue and tilted back. Torren gave a surprised kind of "Whhahgnnngh?" noise and turned his head to squint at the glow. The crying tapered off.

Sheppard concentrated and thought of the Milky Way and it appeared floating in front of him. He quietly explained to Torren where he was from as he dried the baby tears with one of the Whoozit's cloth legs. Atlantis kindly made the planets rotate around each other and even had miniature shuttles flying overhead at one point, which Torren seemed to like judging by the wide eyed stare and stuffed several pudgy fingers into his mouth. Later, he showed him the Pegasus Galaxy and the city flying and Torren made a kind of "huh" noise and drooled and Sheppard said "Yeah it _is_ kinda cool isn't it?" and used another Whoozit leg to clean up the drool.

0o0

By the time Teyla tracked him down, Atlantis was just showing sparkly coloured lights while Sheppard dozed and Torren snuffled quietly in his sling gumming on one of the Whoozit legs. It was times like these that Teyla wished she carried a digital camera.

END

holub hovno= pigeon shit

really the idea for this stemmed from a mental image of Sheppard with one of those baby slings…and it went from there.


End file.
